


Missing

by Kalira



Series: Sheith Month 2017 [10]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Crying, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sheith Month 2017, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, prosthetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 10:10:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11757630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: The Galra took a piece of his heart along with his arm, and while Shiro is forever grateful his soulmate is so devoted, no matter what, he misses the mark that proclaimed he belonged to Keith.





	Missing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 10 of [Sheith Month](http://sheithmonth.tumblr.com/): Prosthetic.
> 
> . . .remember when I almost honestly thought I would write 300-500 word mini-ficlets for all of the Sheith Month prompts? I invite you to laugh at me now if you do, I assure you I'd be laughing at myself if I wasn't busy wailing as I flail after deadlines. (Tomorrow's story looks like will be the closest I've come to the size I thought I'd be writing.)

Shiro sat alone on the bridge, perched near the view screen but not actually looking out at the celestial bodies visible here. Instead his head was bowed and his eyes fixed on his right arm, resting across his lap.

“. . .Shiro, is something wrong?” Allura’s voice startled him, though she spoke delicately. She came closer and crouched beside him, resting an almost tentative hand on his left shoulder.

Shiro cringed. “No, Princess,” he flexed his right hand, “I just- I’m sorry.”

“Do not be sorry.” Allura said, sounding surprised. “I could not sleep. I assume . . . that is what brings you here as well?” Shiro nodded slightly, though it wasn’t precisely the truth - he hadn’t really tried before wandering the halls, and eventually wound up here. “Is . . . is there something wrong with your arm?” she asked

“No.” Shiro said shortly, unable to choke out any more.

Allura patted his shoulder gently, then withdrew her hand, tucking her feet up close to her body as she settled beside him. For a time she simply stayed there beside him, the quiet of the bridge wrapped around them both.

“Shiro?” Allura said gently, and he turned to look towards her. “You seem . . . troubled.”

Shiro swallowed, looking back at the smooth, featureless grey metal of his inner forearm.

“Princess. . .” Shiro began, licking his lips. “Do Alteans have soulmates?” he asked softly. He looked up at Allura. She was looking back, her bright eyes faintly confused.

“Soulmates?” she repeated. “I am not sure. Sometimes the words. . .”

Shiro nodded understanding - sometimes the words they used were strange, between Altean and English - but sighed. “A soulmate is . . . someone,” he paused, trying to think of an explanation that wasn’t overblown romantic metaphor, “someone whose heart and soul ‘match’ with yours, someone . . . _meant_ for you. Usually they’re lovers, sometimes not. Some people have more than one, or. . .” He shook his head. “Everyone . . . looks for theirs, there are. . .”

“Then,” Allura paused, “you make it sound like it is not a chosen match; what makes such a one different so?”

Shiro raised his right arm, turning it outward, then stopped before he could extend it towards Allura, his heart aching and his stomach twisting. “Every human is born with a mark. A soulmark. A name.” Shiro’s voice softened as he remembered the stark black, strong, slightly slanted letters that he had known his whole life.

“A name?” Allura sounded surprised, but she smiled, nodding.

“Just . . . it doesn’t make it _easy_ , finding each other,” Shiro said, swallowing thickly, “we will, eventually; it is . . . your soulmate is always someone who will come through your life, but you have to _recognise_ them.”

Shiro remembered over a year of never . . . saying anything, even when his heart began to race in the presence of a man who _had the right name_ , because he was a year older, because he didn’t want to push, because Keith never said. . .

Not realising that Keith hadn’t _known Shiro’s name_.

“Are you,” Allura paused, “afraid that you will not meet the one your . . . name mark indicates, because you are no longer on Earth?” she asked, then frowned. Shiro stared at her. “You seem quite happy with Keith, I am surprised-”

“No!” Shiro said quickly. “No, Princess, it isn’t. . . I . . . recognised my soulmate several years ago. And,” he shook his head again, “it _is_ Keith, of course it is.”

Allura nodded, making a small understanding sound. “So your . . . soulmate has already been found, and he is with you even now. What is it that causes you distress?” she asked curiously.

Shiro closed his eyes for a moment. “The soulmark . . . it is almost always on the right wrist. It- Mine. . .” He held up his metal hand and tried to smile. “My soulmark,” his voice wobbled as he forced the words out, “is gone. They _took_ it.” It was a bitter wash across his tongue and a stab in his chest.

“Oh- Oh. Shiro, I,” Allura paused, “I am sorry.” Shiro nodded faintly, tucking his arms against his chest. “You have your soulmate, however, and the two of you are . . . very much in love, to any observer. . .”

“He says - and of course he’s right - that it doesn’t change anything, certainly not between _us_ , but. . .” Shiro’s throat tightened. “I miss it.” he admitted. “And I,” he paused, glancing at Allura, “I love to see my name on his skin. To see the proof - the- But I . . . can’t, any more. Show that for him. It feels almost like it’s not. . .”

Shiro looked at the metal of his Galra arm again, flinching.

“I’m sure Keith feels no differently about you because of it; you have . . . known each other as soulmates for some time, have you not?” Allura asked, and Shiro nodded confirmation and-

“No, of course he doesn’t,” Shiro agreed; Keith had certainly _said_ so enough times, and he was just as warm and devoted as he had ever been, “but that’s not the only. . .” he trailed off again. It was . . . stupid and selfish. Not only was he free now, he _had_ his soulmate, and Keith had not so much as let himself be parted from Shiro since they had been reunited, much less rejected him or expressed any upset.

“But if it truly bothers you,” Allura said, a little awkwardly, “the . . . absence, could you not ask Pidge, perhaps, if your arm,” she gestured, “could not be altered to mimic that detail as well?”

Shiro stared at her, going still. His instant reaction was to say _no, how could you suggest_ but of course . . . Allura would not have the instinctive repulsion of the taboo over any hint of replicating or faking a soulmark. “It’s not. . . We don’t. . . A _false_ soulmark,” he cringed, “it isn’t. . .”

“It would not be false, though.” Allura contradicted. “Only making your arm more _yours_. Replacing what was taken.” She rested one hand lightly on his left arm. “I cannot profess to know what it truly means to you, or to Keith,” she said gently, “but if it is something you feel so strongly about; something that causes you such distress . . . surely returning it to its rightful place could not be wrong?”

Shiro opened his mouth, then closed it, looking at the smooth, featureless grey of his wrist. Remembering the name that had curled around his wrist like a promise. “Maybe.” he said softly, curling his metal fingers inwards.

They talked little - and no more about soulmarks - as Allura kept him company until Shiro bid her good night and finally sought his bed.

He looked at his wrist as he threaded through the dimly lit Castle corridors, aching at the sight of the smooth and unmarked metal - but for the first time wondering if . . . it wouldn’t be his _soulmark_ but perhaps. . .

Shiro let himself into the room as quietly as he could, but he still wasn’t surprised when-

“Shiro?” Keith said sleepily, turning over towards the door.

“Hello, baby.” Shiro replied, letting the door close and shedding his clothes before heading to the bed.

“’s late.” Keith said, with a sleepy mumbling sound. “Should have come to bed hours ago.”

“Sorry.” Shiro said softly, climbing in as Keith slid closer to the wall. “I was thinking, and then Allura wanted to talk.” he explained, and Keith hummed, running a hand up Shiro’s chest and settling close by his side.

Shiro caught his hand and drew it up, kissing his palm before letting it rest on Shiro’s chest once more. Keith’s soulmark rested almost directly over his heart.

Shiro closed his eyes, sighing, and curled his fingers over the top of Keith’s wrist.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days later he went to Pidge, worrying at his lip as he slipped quietly into Green’s hangar, where she had set up to work lately.

He curled his right hand up, fist loosely clenched, and looked at his arm. He swallowed painfully, then forced himself to move forwards again.

“Katie? Can I talk to you?” Shiro asked, and Pidge startled, flinging a screwdriver up over her head. “Sorry!”

“ _What do you-_ Oh, uh. Hi Shiro.” Pidge dove out of her chair, looking for the screwdriver. Shiro bent and scooped it up, holding it out.

“Sorry I startled you.” Shiro said, ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to ask you . . . if you could help me with something.”

“Sure thing!” Pidge said, shrugging. “What’s up?” She cocked her head to one side.

“I . . . have a question. About my- my arm.” Shiro said, raising it again, just a little.

“Oh, of course! Is anything wrong?” Pidge asked immediately, concern filling her wide honey-brown eyes.

“No, it’s not- Well. Yes, I suppose?” Shiro said, shifting uncomfortably. “Nothing new, but it’s. . . You know Keith and I are . . . are soulmates?” he asked, shoulders drawing up - he’d never said, neither of them had, quite so blatantly.

“Of course.” Pidge said with a slightly confused smile. “Uh, your . . . arm?”

“Keith doesn’t- Of course he wouldn’t.” Shiro said, and forced himself to take a breath, swallow, calm down. “When the Galra took my arm,” he said, his voice almost even, “they took my soulmark, too.” He fought the welling-up of tears.

Pidge’s face did something nervous and complicated. Shiro felt sorry for shoving this at her. “I- Asking you. . . Can you,” he paused, “put it back?” he turned his right arm palm-up, though he didn’t hold it out towards her.

Pidge’s eyes went wide, and Shiro flinched. “Oh. _Oh._ I- Shiro-!” Pidge stopped and shook her head hard, bouncing up from her chair. “I. . . I’ll see what I can do, Shiro.” she said gently, wrapping her small hands around his forearm.

Something in Shiro’s chest loosened suddenly, like a retaining wall had broken, even as he felt something else deep inside winding anxiously tight. “Thank you.” he managed, feeling slightly shaky.

“I’ll need to do a scan and then . . . problem-solve, I can’t just. . .” Pidge warned, and Shiro nodded. “Okay. Come over here and we’ll get that scan and I’ll get started.” She squeezed his hand firmly, comforting. “And . . . can you write - draw - as close to what it looked like, before, as you can for me?”

Shiro’s mind was suddenly full of a million remembered, perfect images. He nodded again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pidge took two days before she asked Shiro to come to her lab again - he wasn’t sure if it felt like it had been a long time or not nearly long enough. He wasn’t sure if she would actually have an _answer_ for him at all. A part of him still wasn’t even sure if he _wanted_ her to be able to . . . put it back.

A false soulmark. . .

 _But it wouldn’t be **false** , it’s **yours**._ It was Keith’s fiercely protective voice in his head, even though he hadn’t talked to Keith about this. _It’s **mine**. They stole it and you’re just taking it back._

Shiro took a deep breath and tried to cling to that as Pidge explained way more than he could actually follow, but promised that she could alter his wrist to put his soulmark back on it without damaging anything. He wasn’t sure he’d care if it did, but he nodded and thanked her with a slightly wobbly smile.

Pidge returned it with one only slightly steadier, and led him over to a chair by her workbench, getting things set up as Shiro sat as still as possible. Pidge perched in her chair, feet tucked under her, and looked at Shiro as she cradled his hand in hers.

“I . . . can’t make it show up anything but purple.” Pidge said apologetically, and Shiro swallowed down a lump in his throat, shaking his head.

“I- Just having- That’s fine.” he managed, lashes fluttering as he tried not to cry.

“Okay.” Pidge said, her voice soft. She leaned over his arm, but didn’t pick up any tools yet. “You- You don’t want Keith here?” she asked, looking up at him without raising her head.

Shiro opened his mouth, then closed it. Yes, but- “I don’t want- I mean, I’m not sure. . .” He hadn’t wanted Keith to tell him there was no need for this - he might - and he also hadn’t wanted Keith to start hoping that Pidge could do this for him - for them - when Pidge had no idea if she could or not herself. “Not . . . right now.”

Pidge looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. “Okay, Shiro. Whatever you want.” she smiled slightly. “This shouldn’t hurt, but it might feel funny. And don’t move your arm or especially your fingers; I’m going to disable it for a bit but if you try before that. . .”

“I won’t.” Shiro promised, taking a deep breath and consciously relaxing as much as he could. He watched Pidge work - seeing her messy head bowed close over his arm, seeing the Green Lion off behind her, the smooth, bright walls of the Castle, all helped him remember where he was and what was going on as tingles flared up from his arm.

“Not quite done,” Pidge said after some time, “but I need a quick break. Do you need a drink or anything? Are you okay?” she asked. Shiro blinked. “You’re barely breathing.”

Shiro shook his head slightly. “I’m . . . all right.” he assured her.

Pidge eyed him warily, but nodded. “Okay then, if you’re sure.”

“Take as long as you need, though.” Shiro told her, still stone-still, though he made an effort to breathe more deeply. Pidge frowned a little but stood and stretched, wincing as she loosened her shoulders and neck.

“Just give me a minute. I want to finish up.” Pidge said with a small smile, eyes flicking to Shiro’s arm, the metal ‘skin’ layered open and the inner workings visible - and faintly glowing, though not enough to burn Pidge’s fingers as she worked.

Shiro took a deep breath and looked at Pidge’s bowed head as she returned to working on his arm. The tingles shot up his arm more often now, but it still wasn’t quite _pain_ , and Shiro wouldn’t have protested if it had become painful - there was probably little Pidge could do about that, and if she could bring his soulmark back . . . even just some semblance of it, Shiro wouldn’t care if it hurt in the process.

“Okay!” Pidge said suddenly, and Shiro’s jaw twitched as he looked- Pidge was blocking his view of his arm still. “It’s done, Shiro. But you’ll need to run through some. . .”

Shiro wasn’t listening any more as Pidge leaned back out of the way and there in a soft almost-violet glow was the familiar stripe of Keith’s name. He ran his fingers over it, shaking. Soft purple rather than stark black, but he had faithfully recreated the soulmark for Pidge, with trembling hands and several attempts, and Pidge had. . . Perfect.

He tucked his arm close against his chest, breaths coming shallow in his chest as he stroked the glowing letters. They were perfectly smooth, just like the rest of the panel. A few tears splashed on his skin and dripped down over the glowing name - the _soulmark_. Shiro’s soulmark.

Shiro swallowed against the painful lump in his throat and scrubbed clumsily at his face with the back of his left hand. “Thank you Pidge.” he rasped, barely able to glance up from his arm for a moment to meet her eyes.

“Yeah I- Uh. You’re welcome.” Pidge said, face a little flushed. She pushed her glasses up and rubbed her face as Shiro looked down again. “We’ll need to- Oh,” she took his hand and tugged lightly, “just go find Keith.”

Shiro nearly collapsed when he let Pidge pull him out of his chair, but he got his legs under him and steadied himself after a moment.

“. . .or do you need me to go and get him?” Pidge asked, and Shiro’s lips twitched into a smile as he shook his head.

“No, I. . .” Shiro swallowed.

“Okay then. You need to come back and run through a few tests to make sure your arm is still working properly but . . . I guess you’ll be okay for now.” Pidge said as she nudged Shiro towards the door. Shiro was only vaguely registering her words.

He scrubbed his left hand over his wet face from time to time as he wandered the corridors, his eyes fixed on Keith’s name.

He found Keith on the training deck, and he faltered, taking a blow to the shoulder from the Gladiator, when he saw Shiro. Shiro flinched and lunged forwards, but Keith reversed his blade and swung again, then yelled to end the simulation while the Gladiator was still fizzling. He ran towards Shiro, dropping his bayard a few paces away, startling Shiro.

“Shiro?” Keith touched his face lightly. “Shin’ai, are you all right? What happened?” he asked, glancing down Shiro’s body and then meeting his eyes again, gently brushing away-

Oh. Shiro was still crying. He smiled and opened his mouth, then closed it, shaking his head and closing his eyes against a fresh wave of tears. “I’m okay, Keith.” he said softly, rasping a little. “It’s- I-”

“Shin’ai?” Keith stroked his face, looking worried.

“Look.” Shiro said quietly, holding out his right arm. “Look, baby. It- Pidge managed. . . It’s _back_.”

Keith’s brows drew together as he obligingly looked, cradling one hand beneath Shiro’s wrist and bowing his head. His fingers tightened - it would have been painful, Shiro thought, on his other arm - and he went almost inhumanly still. “Shiro. . .” he said, faint, barely a murmur.

“I had never thought- And it’s not the _same_ , but it’s- It’s _my_ soulmark and you. . .” Shiro trailed off. Keith’s fingertips were drifting ever-so-lightly - Shiro could only barely feel them - over his own name.

“ _Shiro._ ” Keith breathed, lifting his head. There were tears in his eyes, too, now. Shiro sniffed a little and swallowed, glancing at his wrist and nodding shallowly. “Oh, Shiro.” Keith’s voice was soft and raw.

He brought Shiro closer with an almost harsh pull and wrapped an arm around his waist, leaning up to kiss him. “I love you.” he said, breath catching in his throat, against Keith’s mouth.

Keith smiled, his lashes fluttering as he looked down to where his fingers were curled around Shiro’s wrist. His thumb brushed over the soulmark, the same way he had a thousand times and more in the past.

Shiro’s knees nearly gave out beneath him, and Keith’s arm tightened around him. Keith slid his feet further apart as he braced them both, and Shiro gave a soft laugh, bowing his head to rest against Keith’s. “I know you said. . . I know you _meant_. . .”

“You are still my Takashi, my shin’ai, no matter what.” Keith said gently, rubbing their noses together.

Shiro caught his breath, eyes prickling. Keith’s eyes were warm, so close to his own.

“I missed it.” Shiro admitted, nosing a little closer. He laughed weakly as Keith’s upturned nose brushed over one of the tear-tracks on his face, and tried to pull back, but Keith held him close. “I am so . . . grateful to have you as my soulmate, and that you. . . But I . . . I wanted my soulmark, _your name_ , and I didn’t think it would ever. . . But when Pidge. . .”

“I missed it too.” Keith said, kissing him again, a barely-there brush. “You’re still mine, but I am glad that your soulmark could be brought back. No one should be able to take that from you.” He growled quietly, and Shiro shivered, leaning into him.

“Just like no one can take you from me?” Shiro asked, because he knew Keith.

Keith hummed assent, fingers tightening on Shiro’s wrist. “You _are_ mine.” he said, fierce and soft at once. “And I’m yours.” He smiled sweetly, softening his sharp face, and Shiro reached for Keith’s wrist, where the neat strokes of his name were blazoned in stark black on Keith’s skin. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Mikkimouse](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mikkimouse/pseuds/mikkimouse) and I had a conversation months ago during which I seem to have accidentally inflicted the headcanon on her that Shiro's soulmate mark is (was) on his right arm. It stuck with me as well, obviously, and here we are.
> 
> Shin'ai is Japanese and translates roughly to 'true love'. (Though not a 'Japanese endearment', per se, it is grammatically accurate and sensible. I like it for Keith to use.)


End file.
